My passport is stamped full as a record of places I’ve been. Flipping through, I pick out names of cities. Manchester, Sydney, New York, Berlin and what seems like a hundred more, all printed in greens, blues, and reds.
I’ve seen wonders like the Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House and that giant statue of Jesus in Rio.
Airplane landings and take-offs are more familiar to me than home. Being on a plane is kind of like being in a big family, just for a short time. Like a family, the passengers are insensitive and stuck with each other, even if it is only temporary.
I’ve seen all these things and been to all these places.
It’s too bad it’s always from an airplane window.